


Lying to Yourself

by eratothemuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Cheating, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Maybe you weren't as happy in your relationship with Stiles as you thought, and maybe Peter was right there to be your shoulder to cry on.





	Lying to Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago but I didn’t think it was that good, so I never uploaded it. I finally got around to editing it and now I think it’s kind of decent. Really, this fic is mainly Peter/Reader, but s/he just so happens to be in a relationship with Stiles.  
> \- Meg <3 xx

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, it had started when you had first laid eyes on him. Standing in the doorway, looking down at you with those piercing blue eyes that would make any girl swoon as you fumbled dumbly with the scrap of paper in your hand.

“U-uhm, is this where Derek Hale lives?” you had squeaked, squinting at the address Stiles had scribbled down using a locker as his table in order to tell you directions to “ol’ Sourwolf’s place” where the pack meetings were held.

He had smirked at you, leaning just enough out of the way for you to squeeze through the entrance, but not without rubbing against him, “You’re late.”

You remember having to tear your eyes from his lingering gaze and force yourself not to shiver as you went through the door. You pushed the feeling of his gaze on your back to the corner of your mind, moving further into the loft.

The rest of them were already assembled, but it was Scott who called out to you, “There you are! We already started the meeting, sorry.”

You managed to learn who he was about halfway through the meeting from Isaac. You were both pressed up against a wall in the background, not really caring to take part in the discussion anymore. Stealing glances at the older man throughout the night, your curiosity finally got the best of you when he made some sarcastic comment to Derek, making the seemingly permanent frown on his face only deepen. 

“Who is he?” you had nonchalantly asked in a hushed whisper, and Isaac had bent at the waist to come closer to your ear.

“Figures Stiles would forget to mention him,” the smirk playing around Isaac’s lips almost disappeared as he gave you the details. You were almost certain that you saw the man’s- Peter’s eyes flicker to the two of you as your hushed conversation went on.

 A few words stuck out in Isaac’s description of Peter. Dangerous. Totally psycho. He had finished with, “Scott says not to trust him.”

You had wished it were as easy in practice as it was to preach.

 Now, here you were with a crush the size of Africa on the former Alpha. You knew it was a stupid, school-girlish thing that you’d always thought yourself above. He’d made it abundantly clear in the few months you’d known him that there was only one thing Peter cared about, and that was Peter.

Yet every time you saw him your heart would stutter in your chest, and you knew the only way you would be able to be around him would be if you got over him. When you had asked Lydia to fix you up with someone, you had never expected her to throw you into the arms of Stiles Stilinski.

Honestly, your relationship with Stiles was pretty damn innocent. You were both already the best of friends, only now you had someone to hold hands and go on dates with.

Plus, he was a surprisingly good kisser.

You felt comfortable around him. There was literally no pressure in the relationship; it was nice. It wasn’t the kind of love they write sonnets about, though, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

Stiles made it easier to be around Peter, though. You were no longer stuck in some corner of the loft, alone with the subject of your infatuation at pack meetings. Whenever your heart would pick up you could play it off as something Stiles did or said.

Stiles was a good distraction.

The two of you sat on the couch, holding hands as Scott and Derek went at it about some new problem that’s emerged in Beacon Hills. Peter would put in his two cents every now and again, usually in a completely unhelpful comment.

Stiles leaned into you, and you tilted into the warmth he provided, chuckling when he whispered some snarky remark about how Derek’s face would freeze if he kept frowning.

You brought your lips to his ear, “What if it already has, and that’s why he doesn’t stop frowning?” A laugh barked from the back of Stiles’ throat as he heard you, causing the attention of the pack to shift.

“I don’t even know why the two lovebirds are here. The only thing they’ve accomplished during this meeting is making me want to revisit my lunch,” Peter spat, and you recoiled at the obvious annoyance in his tone. You’d seen him upset before, but that anger had never been directed at you. Derek sighed, saying how they hadn’t been getting anywhere anyway before declaring the meeting officially over.

Stiles hopped up as Scott started your way, “You brought your car right, (Y/N)? Wanna meet up at Scott’s?”

“Yeah, my mom won’t be home because she had a night shift at the hospital. We can watch TV or something,” Scott smiled, sifting a hand through his dark hair.

“Yeah, sure,” you gave Stiles a hug, watching them leave while you gathered your things. Derek had already retreated back into some part of the loft, so now you were the only one left to leave. You inwardly cursed at how much crap you had brought. From papers on old mythology that might help to your school notebooks, you were shoving it all back in your bag.

“Don’t forget this,” an outstretched hand came into your vision, holding another slip of paper you’d almost forgotten. You jumped at the sudden appearance, having not even heard Peter’s approach. Turning to face him, you pulled your heavy bag onto your shoulder.

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying not to concentrate on the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own as you took the paper from his grasp. You lingered there, realizing just how long it’s been since you really spent time with Peter.

“I’ve got to go,” you broke through the silence first, and Peter took a step away from you.

“Wouldn’t want to keep  _Miles_  waiting,” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“What is your problem?” you huffed,  “You act like you’re completely indifferent to me one second and then the next you’re shitting on my relationships like you care!”

“You want to know what my problem is?” the low growl that ripped from his chest caught you off guard. You stepped back, but he matched your step with his, like a wolf stalking its prey, “My problem is that you’re a  _liar_.”

“W-What? I don’t know what you’re talking ab-” you gasp as your back hits a wall, and he has you trapped. His strong arms slam down on the wall near both sides of your body and you could swear you heard the cement crack.

“You’re lying right now. To that boy, to me, but most importantly: to yourself,” Peter grinds through his teeth, “I can hear the way your heart races whenever I’m near you.”

“T-That’s because you’re scaring me, Peter,” the whispered fib doesn’t sound convincing, even to you.

“Another lie,” he pins your body between his and the wall, flush against you. Peter buries his face in your neck, causing a blush to erupt over your cheeks. Inhaling deeply, he scents you before pulling back just enough to look in your eyes, “You smell nothing like fear.”

When he kisses you, you feel the bag slip from your shoulder and hit the ground. A loud thump echoes throughout the room, but you could hardly bring yourself to care. You slip your hands around his neck with no hesitance, feeling his own slide from the wall to your waist in an attempt to bring you closer.

When you tugged on his hair he seemed to snap, grabbing you by your thighs to bring your legs to wrap around him. He didn’t let you fall, pressing further into the wall and situating his own leg beneath you. The feel of his lips against yours was better than any fantasy you’d ever had. He was surprisingly gentle, coaxing your mouth against his own. You don’t know for certain how long you both stayed like that, but you did know it wasn’t long enough.

When you had moaned his name against his lips he had pulled back, detangling your body from his and setting you down with a smirk. You didn’t know what was going on as he bent to grab your bag, slipping it back over your shoulder.

“Peter-” you began, only for him to cut you off with a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Go,” Peter motioned to the door, “don’t want to be late for movie night, sweetheart.”


End file.
